


Grief of the Undertaker

by MaidenM



Series: Fe3H kinkmeme fills [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Autopsy, Ferdinand is dead, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenM/pseuds/MaidenM
Summary: In the wake of the Prime Minister's assassination, Hubert performs his husband's autopsy.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Fe3H kinkmeme fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786168
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115





	Grief of the Undertaker

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the fe3hkinkmeme, less of a kink and more of a fondness for heavy angst. The prompt asked for Hubert grieving Ferdinand's death, and to make it hurt. I took one look at the prompt, fell in love and knew I had to do it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have little clue as to how an autopsy is done.

Even as he entered the room, Edelgard’s kind words echoed in his head. _“You don’t have to be the one to do this. We can get someone else.”_ A pointless notion, she must know he couldn’t let anyone else do this. For so many reasons. All signs pointed to this being an act of retaliation from Those who Slither in the Dark. An act of revenge for turning on them the moment they were no longer useful. As if they would not have done the same, Lady Edelgard had merely struck first.

As he closed the heavy door behind him, Ferdinand did not stir upon the table where he lay.

Ferdinand would never move again. Never turn his way and smile. Never be warm and loving and alive ever again.

Hubert swallowed thickly as he prepared himself to begin.

Washing his hands carefully he did everything he could to keep his thoughts from wandering. He had a job to do, a duty to perform. If he allowed himself to be distracted he could miss something, fail in his mission and then…

Then Ferdinand would truly have died for nothing.

He slid his gloves on, ignoring the voice that sounded so much like Ferdinand reminding him how much he loved his hands. He put on his mask, again pushing away the reminder of how many times Ferdinand had pushed the hair out of his face urging him not to hide from him. A deep breath. Two. A lump in his throat as he steeled himself to face his lover one last time.

He turned to the body. Not a sound left him as his breath stilled just as it had when they found him.

Ferdinand’s naked body lay covered by a simple white sheet, exposed only from the waist up. Hubert had heard many people poetically speaking of how their loved one looked like they were merely sleeping in death but the sight before him confirmed what he already knew; that it was a lie, a falsehood held up by the efforts of embalmers and funeral directors. The man before him was undoubtedly a corpse.

By my, even as a corpse he was beautiful in Hubert’s eyes.

Ferdinand lay pale, his blood long since gone as it had pooled beneath him in their shared chamber. His wounds sat exposed, all but one shallow enough to hurt but in no way lethal. His eyes were closed and his arms and legs lay straight, a far cry from how he had been found with glossy eyes staring widely at nothing and limbs stuck in a lifeless flail. Across his throat the mark of the killing blow mocked him, reminding him that if he had been quicker, if he had been smarter he might have been able to save him instead of letting the life of his beloved bleed out lonely and scared and…

A thud accompanied by a dull ache to his back snapped Hubert back to the present. He had backed into the counter behind him. _You fool,_ he chastised himself, _you can’t flee from this. You fled from him for so long, the least you could do is face him now…_

One, two, three steps was all it took to reach ~~Ferdinand~~ the slab. At ~~Ferdinand’s~~ the body’s side his tools already lay prepared, all he had to do was perform the autopsy like he had done for victims like this so many times before. The fact that this was ~~Ferdinand~~ someone dear to him did not change the procedure, it did not change his mission, it did not change the world.

Life would go on.

Scalpel in hand, Hubert got to work. Samples of flesh were taken from the wounds, notes were made about the placement, size and shape of bruises, he felt the flesh for traces of broken or fractured bones.

He desperately tried to ignore how just a week before his hands had done the same motions, his eyes watching just as intently but then it had been in the name of love, of pleasure, of an intimacy he never knew he was even capable of - a skill Ferdinand had taught him, had cultivated in him until it grew and spilled out of him with the need to let this stubborn, loveable man feel him in every inch, every pore.

Ferdinand had seen him off as he left for his mission. He had kissed him, teased him even in the playfulness they had carved from their former antagonism towards one-another.The promise of his husband’s warm embrace had hurried his stride as Hubert had returned successful. He would never forget how his blood turned cold at the sight of their bedroom door hanging off its hinges, of the smell of metal in the air or the way the blood had mingled in Ferdinand’s hair making it difficult to tell where the luscious locks ended and his lifeblood began.

His fingers grazed the corners of the wound across Ferdinand’s throat. In his mind’s eye, he could see an unblemished, unharmed Ferdinand gaze up at him with all the love he never though he’d have.

A pair of droplets fell upon the dead man’s collarbone. No matter, no one but Hubert and the ghost of a loved man would know.

Deeming his examination of the body’s external damage complete, Hubert began to clean the body. Dried blood and viscera fell away under his hands, leaving once tanned skin pale and clear. Hands slid gently across the planes of Ferdinand’s chest, over the muscle of his arms and legs, carefully stroking his formerly sun-kissed face.

If anyone had noted that Hubert took more time than he should with the process, he might have pointed out that this would be the last time he’d ever get to touch him.

_Forgive me,_ Hubert asked as he pulled his mask aside and lay one last gentle kiss upon Ferdinand’s forehead. _I would have laid you to rest beautiful and whole if I could._

He stood up, sighed, and with the efficiency of a professional sliced three deep incisions into Ferdinand’s chest.

At first, it got easier from there. He had never known the insides of one man from another, as long as he kept his gaze focused he could do what was needed without his emotions getting in the way. Carefully, but with efficient precision, piece after piece were removed and put in jars, hollowing out the body so that he could examine the organs more carefully. Pancreas, spleen, liver, lungs. Each piece cut loose from their place to be prepared for a more thorough examination.

He had to know the full extent of what they did to him. He had to know how much he needed them to suffer.

Did they poison him? Is that why there were so few signs of struggle? Why no one had heard Ferdinand scream, either in rage, pain or for help? Had he bled to death as Hubert suspected, or had a ruthless venom taken him from him in a cruel mockery of Hubert’s own methods?

He had to know.

It was not until he stood with Ferdinand’s heart in his hands that he found himself hesitating again.

The jar he intended for it stood empty and ready beside him. It was important, many toxins could leave tell-tale signs upon the heart, it had to be examined. Yet, the mere act of dropping the muscle from his hands, of letting go, felt suddenly insurmountable. For all the times Ferdinand had claimed to have given him his own heart, taking it from him seemed somehow foul.

_If only I could give you mine in return,_ Hubert thought and this time he let his tears flow freely at the thought. _If only I could open myself up like I did you, tear my heart out and let you live again. I would keep you alive. Though my body and soul belongs to the empire and Lady Edelgard but you…_

_My body merely keeps my heart beating for you._

Gently, he laid the heart that once belonged to him in the jar.


End file.
